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November 1689 :: Quebec City
Matthieu wasn't completely surprised the day he found a middle-aged man standing on his doorstep, looking up at the heavy clouds. Onondaga and Maliseet had warned him of Winter, and the bargain that Matthieu would soon have to uphold.
So he did the only thing he could think of: "Would you like to come in for some supper?" he asked.
The man turned his face toward Matthieu and raised an eyebrow.
"I've enough to share, and there's no reason we can't be polite about this."
The man stared at him a moment longer, then tipped back his head and laughed. "It has been a long time, little one, since anyone has dared address me in such a manner. Are you not scared of what I can do to you?"
Matthieu shrugged. "I've lived with you for as long as I can remember, Father Winter, because of the others I share this land with. You haven't destroyed me yet."
"Yet," he echoed, and Matthieu thought he saw him smile. "Have you any duck?"
"No, but I have stew and fresh bread."
Winter considered, nodded. "Very well."